Hope you are flourishing. We shall be up for a few days next week. Ever yours very faithfully, T.H. Huxley. Eastbourne, January 31, 1890. My dear Foster, Mind you let me know what points you think want expanding in the Darwin obituary when we meet. We go to town on Tuesday for a few days, and I will meet you anywhere or anywhen you like. Could you come and dine with us at 4 P.M. on Thursday? If so, please let me know at once, that E. may kill the fatted calf. Harry has been and gone and done it. We heard he had gone to Yorkshire, and were anxious, thinking that at the very least a relapse after his influenza (which he had sharply) had occurred. But the complaint was one with more serious sequelae still. Don't know the young lady, but the youth has a wise head on his shoulders, and though that did not prevent Solomon from overdoing the business, I have every faith in his choice. Dr. Guillemard has kindly sent me a lot of valuable information; but as I suggested to my boy yesterday, he may find Yorkshire air more wholesome than that of the Canaries, and it is ten to one we don't go after all. Ever yours, T.H. Huxley. [To his younger son:--] Eastbourne, January 30, 1890. You dear old humbug of a Boy, Here we have been mourning over the relapse of influenza, which alone, as we said, could have torn you from your duties, and all the while it was nothing but an attack of palpitation such as young people are liable to and seem none the worse for after all. We are as happy that you are happy as you can be yourself, though from your letter that seems saying a great deal. I am prepared to be the young lady's slave; pray tell her that I am a model father-in-law, with my love. (By the way, you might mention her name; it is a miserable detail, I know, but would be interesting.) Please add that she is humbly solicited to grant leave of absence for the Teneriffe trip, unless she thinks Northampton air more invigorating. Ever your loving dad, T.H. Huxley. On April 3, accompanied by his son, he left London on board the "Aorangi". At Plymouth he had time to meet his friend W.F. Collier, and to visit the Zoological Station, while], "to my great satisfaction," [he writes], "I received a revise (i.e. of 'Capital the Mother of Labour') for the May 'Nineteenth Century'--from Knowles. They must have looked sharp at the printing-office." [It did not take him long to recover his sea-legs, and he thoroughly enjoyed even the rougher days when the rolling of the ship was too much for other people. The day before reaching Teneriffe he writes:--] I have not felt so well for a long time. I do nothing, have a prodigious appetite, and Harry declares I am getting fat in the face.